


Keep Your Hands to Yourself

by Anonymous



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Kink Negotiation, Kon regrets nothing, M/M, Making sexual fantasties come to life, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Tactile Telekinesis, They talked about it but they could have talked more, Tim is pretty when he's crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Kon come on, I need you to wake up, please wake up.” Tim begins nudging him more urgently, shaking a shoulder when he sees the corner of Kon’s lips twitch. Wait a fucking millisecond. Tim hits the super on the arm with a ringing slap. A grunt comes from the so called ‘sleeping’ idiot.“You freaking bastard, you’re–would you stop that–not even asleep!”Kon cracks an eye open. “…I could be.” The super can’t even duck from the second hit. Of course, of freaking course, Tim should have known. He should get a pillow and smother him.





	Keep Your Hands to Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> This is for TimDrakeWeek 2017 Dreams/Reality with the sexiest KonTim idea I could think of. I admit I did get some help from the lovely Wintersnight or Iphoenixrising. She really nails down the steamiest smut I can imagine. I set it up and she adds the filthy wonderful detail, bless her soul. I'm still shy about having explicit things on my dash, but maybe in the future I'll de-anon. Thank you and enjoy the story.

Tim bolts upright, trying to figure out what woke him.

He scans the entire room left to right. The blinds let light filter in from the street lamps, bathing the room in a warm glow. There’s the white noise of a car passing every now and again but that’s not amiss. Neither is the dirty laundry in patches on the floor or the drip of that damn _faucet_ in the bathroom Tim still needs to get fixed.

But that’s not what woke him.

_What was it?_

A soft snore from Tim’s side makes him turn, and he takes in his boyfriend. Kon spawls out star-fish style, and it would look ridiculous if Tim didn’t love him so much. No, that can’t be that. He mentally goes through a checklist: doors and windows are still secured, no one’s else is here, nothing in the room is broken, Kon’s perfectly okay, and Kon’s hands kneading the tension out of neck, it wasn’t from a nightmare or anything, his phone is off–

Tim’s view snaps back to Kon. To the hands that are definitely nowhere _near_ his neck while the touch finds a particular knot and _has at it._

Oh. Kon’s tactile telekinesis. Somehow Kon is using his TTK to do that and…pet and caress his inner wrists?

“Huh.” This actually feels…nice? The scratches on his scalp make any leftover nerves melt away.

Soft exhales escape him as his head and shoulders drop forward as if to allow more room to the sweeping gestures running down his back. There’s pressure, like that of a heavy blanket, over his legs calming him further.  Well, he supposes there are worse things than getting an accidental massage from your snoozing boyfriend. Then what can only be thumbs dig hard into either side of his lower spine and he moans.

_“Ahhh.”_

It’s loud.

The sound practically echoes in the still room, _how freaking embarrassing._ He slaps his hand over his mouth because, Holy Batman that was definitely a sex sound. But sexy times are over. Sexy times have been over for, Tim blurrily stares at the red glowing numbers on the bedside table, for five hours now. The heat rushes to his face and he twists to see if that woke up Kon.

It didn’t, good.

Yet, as if that was the signal or it flipped a switch, the touches turn eager and sensual. His glutes are hungrily grabbed, squeezed and spread apart. Tim almost jumps away from the sudden groping when the curves of his hips are pinned down firmly to the bed, trapping him to the mercy of whatever is playing with his ass.

“Wha–”

A gasp is torn from him because the TTK apparently can change textures too. _What the hell?_ What used to be long comforting strokes up and down his forearm turn into biting kisses. The tender touches to this throat become long, wet _(which doesn’t make any sense)_ sucks outlining his adam’s apple.  

Okay. Not nice or funny anymore. “Hey Kon?” He reaches over to tap his lover on the shoulder. Nothing…except for the touches to become more aggressive. He flinches when his collarbone is traced, scratched with a nail, the sensation heading towards his nipples. Getting closer, closer. Tim looks down and sees nothing but goosebumps and the red flush bleeding over his chest. Not cool man.

Panic sets in though when there’s a skimming touch at his entrance. Like one of Kon’s thick fingers circling the rim over and over again. Sometimes pulling on the sides lightly just like he does when his boyfriend is awake and starting to prep him for real.

Desperation fills his lungs and he chokes when something grazes the tip of his nipples. “Kon.”

The finger begins to press, to sink.

“Kon come on, I need you to wake up, _please wake up.”_ Tim begins nudging him more urgently, shaking a shoulder when he sees the corner of Kon’s lips twitch. _Wait a fucking millisecond._ Tim hits the super on the arm with a ringing slap. A grunt comes from the so called ‘sleeping’ idiot.

 **“You freaking bastard,** you’re– _would you stop that_ –not even asleep!”

Kon cracks an eye open. “…I could be.” The super can’t even duck from the second hit. Of course, of freaking course, _Tim should have known._ He should get a pillow and smother him.

 _“But.”_ Slap. _“You’re.”_ Smack. **“Not!”** And Tim tries to get another strike in when his arms collapse without his consent under him. The TTK dragging his wrists above his head. He gives his lover a vicious glare and suddenly his legs are held down too. Like Kon remembered how much one of his kicks hurt… _Tch._ His first move should have been to kick Kon out of bed. At least all the other invasive, perverted _(because that’s what Kon is, a disgusting, horrible perv)_ actions come to a brief halt.

Kon’s eyes fully open and he turns to side resting his head in his hand in the classic bedroom pose. “Sorry Babe, I just had this amazing dream and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t _Babe_ me!” Tim spits out, fighting the grip on his arms. “We talked about this, somnophilia is out!”

Kon’s mouth tugs down in a pout. _How dare he?_ He’s almost twice Tim’s size in mass, he doesn’t have any right to pull the puppy eyes on him. “But that’s why I didn’t really _do_ anything until you woke up!”

“A full body massage and fondling my arms isn’t doing anything.” Tim huffs, slumping against the mattress. It’s useless to try to escape, just like it was three minutes ago.

“Well excuuuuuuuuse me, princess. It’s not my fault that you have ‘sensitive’ inner arms and a delicious lower back…and ass.”  But his face morphs into a pleased smirk. “Not that I’m complaining at all. _I love how touchy you are._ ”

“Well, I’m complaining. I was actually sleeping for once Kon!” The vigilante hisses. Sleep is sacred, rare. Why Kon would disturb that is a crime worthy of kryptonite.

 _“Come on…_ ” Kon wheedles. “You always say sleep is for the weak! Don’t you want to hear my dream?”

“Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice..” Tim says wryly, but hey, he’ll humor his depraved boyfriend. Doesn’t look like Kon will let him go until he does. Kon grins and the invisible touches on his skin return. Slowly, unwillingly Tim relaxes under them, accepts the way they press over his whole body to flatten him firmly to the bed. The movement changing to tight circles heading up his calves.

“So there we were on the bed, just sleeping. And you’re wearing just my T-shirt, _nothing else.”_

Tim raises his eyebrows unimpressed. “Like I’m doing right now.”

“And you’re all stretched out, perfect and open to anything anyone can think of…”

Tim pulls on his arms once to illustrate the point. “Like I’m doing right now. Still don’t know why you–”

“Shhhhhh.” Kon stops Tim’s blasphemous words with a finger to those lips. Tim rolls his eyes to the ceiling and snorts…or tries to. The touches have reached his inner thighs, working the flesh and tracing delicate veins. “And I’m dead asleep. Dead to the world, but my awesome ability, my TTK has different ideas.”

“Huh. I see where this is going.” He says into Kon’s finger, swallowing back a noise when his right nipple is deliberately flicked.

“But no matter how loud you get, no matter how much you _beg…_ ” Kon’s pupils get wide, tracing the outline of Timmy’s mouth with that digit. Watching Tim start to pant, his cheeks seriously hurt from blushing. His nubs going peaked and painfully red when the TTK decides it’s the perfect moment to pinch them both.  “…I don’t wake up.” 

“You a-absolute–” His voice breaks into a high whine as Kon applies his touch as thorough sweep across his groin. Cupping him behind the shirt to squeeze at random intervals. Tim bites out the rest, _“–Jerk.”_

“And my powers feel you up, feel inside of you, playing with you to make you come and come–” Kon leans over to pepper kisses on his jaw all the way to his ear to darkly whisper, “– _and come_ and there’s nothing you can do about it. _You just have to lie there and take it.”_  And a shudder wracks the Super’s body, the tremble minute because he _knows_ how hard it is to make his vigilante boyfriend _let go_. The prospect, the possibility of holding him down like this, forcing him to lose that carefully cultivated control to be a useless mass of sated and satisfied.

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.” Kon gives a short nip to the earlobe and then sucks a mark into the hollow behind it. But he works with his power at the same time he uses his body, pouring the pressure over Tim’s chest and down the span of ribs and abdomen, pausing over old scars and sensitive places. While his power, his hands, his mouth, push Tim closer to giving _in_ , Kon excitedly he goes on spouting, “In fact, in the dream _you do!_ You give me the little punched out moans that you can’t help when you’re really feeling it, asking me, almost shouting at me to touch you. But I can’t because I’m that out, _that wasted_ with you squirming beside me making the best lullaby soundtrack ever.”

“Kon!” The TTK is merciless, tendrils rubbing his chest more firmly, finding the grooves that run down his hips to his cock. Something that feels like a tongue brushes over his asshole, and oh that’s just playing dirty. They already had sex. He’s already screamed for Kon enough tonight, he can’t do another round. Not like this! _“K-Kon, I can’t–”_

“Yeah. Just like that.” Kon pulls back, biting his lip to scan Tim from head to toe. The way that body arches helplessly against the onslaught, Tim straining on the sheets as the t-shirt slips further up his thighs, if Kon could just–Tim throws his head back and wails when the bottom of the shirt drags across of his erection in a filthy tease until it’s uncovered and bare.

For a better picture the TTK rearranges his legs to spread nice and wide. God, Tim’s beautiful and so fucking hot. Tear streaks shouldn’t be so pretty, but it’s _Tim_ so Kon should have known. Tim could make a paper bag sexy.  “You say my name like that and I want to roll in it, record it for my freaking ringtone, babe. The insanely wicked part of the whole scene is that you can’t tell me to stop. Well, I mean you could, _but I wouldn’t hear it._ ”

The TTK worms it’s way inside of him, spreading him open, making Tim shudder and crack. It’s not the size of fingers, but more, and it finds his prostrate immediately to play with, to tease against his spot with feathery, soft brushes with the motion moving in and out, moving deeper inside until his breath catches. The power leaves no bruises, but he feels used and full. One hard thrust in makes him let out a sharp keen, and Kon reaches out to pet his side only to abort the motion in mid-air.

“But that’s the sucky part about dreams…” Kon says mournfully, rolling over to his stomach to rest his head on his arms. “You have to wake up.”

And everything **stops**. The restraints on his arms gone. The touches that tormented, teased  every inch of his skin, including the essential press on his spot that Tim needs right now? Gone. _Oh hell no._ Tim jerks up, sitting upright towards the super, his eyes blazing. Kon doesn’t get to rile him, wind him up like a toy and then to stop before they were done. _How dare he?_

_“I am going to murder you.”_

Kon smiles bemused at the very visually upset Robin literally frothing at the mouth next to him and goes on ignoring the threat, “I mean, _you hate it_ when I make you come more than twice.”

“That’s because _you have the libido of a thousand suns_ ,   **you monster** _.”_ Tim snarls at him, sitting up to grab the nearest pillow and whack Kon with it. Several times because his dick is still so stupidly hard and he must look– _argh._ The weak protest his edging _asshole_ of a boyfriend does nothing to help the frustration baring it’s teeth. “I can’t keep up.”

“I know that.” He replies crestfallen. Covering his face to protect himself from Tim’s assault. “Like I completely disagree and stuff–ow–” as Tim gets in a lucky shot, “I could so wring out four or five orgasms out of you, but if you don’t want to? That’s freaking that.”

Kon rolls away from Tim. Putting his back towards him and offers an apology for something Tim doesn’t even want, “Look I’m sorry I woke you up, it was dumb. I’m sorry.”

Tim can’t believe he’s contemplating this. He already spoils Kon rotten, but his boyfriend looks so…heartbroken. This is probably a trap. It’s gotta be. Like let’s drive Tim crazy and say let’s forget about it, when we don’t want to forget about it as our brilliant ploy….insert evil cackling laughter here mwhahahahaha.

But…Kon does respect his boundaries surprise, surprise. In any part of their relationship, really. He never does anything Tim doesn’t want to do.

The vigilante falls back on the mattress, burning holes into the ceiling. He exhales slowly through his nose and sighs. “I…I don’t have work tomorrow. Well there’s things I _could_ do, but it’s Sunday. So _hypothetically_ we could sleep in and you could _make me breakfast and clean everything in the whole apartment_ because I’ll deserve it with after…after tonight. I could…go back to lying down and you could go back to pretending to be sleep if you want.”

Kon lights up like the damn dog he is.  “Really Babe? Are you sure?” His head pops up over his shoulder and Tim can almost see the puppy ears. Damn he is whipped.

“…Yeah, I’m sure.” Tim is going to regret this.

“I promise you won’t regret this.” Kon chirps happily. The TTK squeezes the poor boy in a full bodied hug. “I’m gonna make it so _good_ for you. I’ve always wanted to see if I could come with just the noises you make.”

Tim groans and attempts to smother himself with his previous fluffy weapon. Death would be kinder.

“Hey stop that, I want to hear you!” The pillow flops over to the ground.

“The ‘sleeping,’ doesn’t get to talk, Kon!” Tim snaps.

“Oh, right.”

“ _Argh,_ maybe we should just forget about it after all.” Dead silence.

Tim looks over, and Kon is still facing away from him. He can only see that broad, shirtless back, nothing else in the super’s body language. “Kon?”

There’s a sharp jab to his prostrate and Tim lets out a breathless scream.

The thrusts are endless and strong, picking right up where Kon left off. Tim’s eyes are wide as he’s opened and spread, the slow thrusts moving his body up the bed, but the invisible pressure roaming over his body, brushing over his _spot_ while his limbs are barred down without warning to slap on the bed. His mouth gaping uselessly for air and it’s too much. _It’s too much._ The TTK drills into him, grinds and doesn’t let up for a second as Tim’s hips go wild. There’s fingers spread over his ribs, and his nipples are rolled into tight peaks.

 _“AH, K-Kon wait! That’s too much too fast!”_ Suddenly his cock is swallowed tip to base, hitting a nonexistent throat and Tim’s reduced to high mewls. His fingers twisting in the sheets, chest heaving while his whole body squirms as pleasure wracked him. He doesn’t inch over the edge, he’s _thrown_ off it.

Red comes so fast Kon loves it.

He shifts a little further to his stomach in his “sleep,” so he can turn his head and crack an eye open at the very entertaining show right beside him.

The very dangerous vigilante he has the honor of calling his best friend and boyfriend is trapped under the invisible power holding all his limbs, the touch skimming over his body in sensitive dips and hollows, taking interest in nipples and cock and sweet throat that literally makes Kon’s mouth _water_ because he _knows_ how good it tastes.

A half-sob from the vigilante means he’s starting to get closer to his second orgasm, but it’s a little too close to the first.

Tim said they could sleep in tomorrow, so that means Kon has plenty of _time_.

But the vigilante is in _hell_. Utter. Hell.

“Oh _God,_ Kon! Please–!” _slow down_ , but he can’t even get it out once the pressure sucks at his balls and the pressure against his spot almost makes him see stars. His throbbing cock is released, giving him a short respite so he can maybe, gee, get a _breath_ in his starved lungs.

“It’s too much,” he whines, hips twitching in that hold when the thrusts start picking up again, and the thing ( _his_ thing) happens. The TTK presses him further in the mattress on all sides, surrounding him, making sure he can’t _get away_. Nothing could stop the ensuing orgasm, making him arch his back hard against the force holding him down while his body undulates and tears make a path down his face.

“Kon! Kon, you have to wake-up,” he babbles, lending to the fantasy, “oh God…not again.”

But the feeling inside him slowly slides out, his thighs strain further. It’s not the width of fingers this time, not the teasing touch to his spot; it’s the tip of a cock at his rim, slowly breaching him, working it’s way into him. The slow, slick slide is enough to make his mouth drop open again and eyes go shut because _he is going to **die**_.

Kon’s cheeks are red even if he’s “asleep.” The smallest of movements is his hips working his painfully erect cock into the sheets below, simulating what his TTK is doing to Tim _right now_. Even if it isn’t really him sliding in and taking, he knows how _tight_ and warm Tim is around him, how good it feels, how much it makes him _need_ to _take_.

Tim, however, would do _anything_ to make the torture **stop**.

His body is sensitive, made more so by the fluttering, invisible pressure that know his body just as well as Kon does. The scar are outlined, wet and sharp with imaginary tongue and teeth (Kon’s favorite ones are hit first, making a pained whine spill out from the back of the super’s throat because it’s been hours since he last tasted Tim), the indents to his hips gripped tight enough to bruise when the slow slides back inside his body make him almost _insane_. He’s slowly moving back to the place where it isn’t painfully sensitive all over, where he’s starting to get hard and leaking again.

“K-Kon, please wake up,” Tim rasps out in between a groan and a cry, “I…I’m going to…I can’t. Kon, I _can’t_ –”

But the Super doesn’t move, just breathes, face slack with sleep while his boyfriend is being so securely held and fucked nice and _hard_.

“Oh _God!”_ Tim screams out when a pointed jab to his _spot_ has his hips jerking against the force holding him down, arms straining. His thighs are pushed up, spreading him even more, and he might just fucking _die_. Get him a tombstone and call it good.

Kon, however, is fisting his hands under his pillow, watching out of the barely-cracked slits (like the absolute bastard he is), smothering his noises while his bad ass boyfriend is coming apart. His own cock _aches_ with it, just like it does every time he manages to work Tim up, to wind him so _tight_ , he’s mindless with pleasure, helpless against it. But _this_? Knowing Tim can’t even escape, even if he wanted to just cause he can’t even put two brain cells together?  It’s every fantasy coming to life.

“There, _there!_ ” Tim cries out, the angle that much higher, “more…I need it _more_ , Kon. Please, _please_.”

But the slow, slick slide doesn’t speed up, doesn’t have Kon’s usual _gusto._ It stays an easy, constant pace, driving the electric spikes of pleasure up his spine with every movement. His brain is failing to do anything else other than _beg_ because he’s on the cusp of a spectacular orgasm and he needs it just a little _faster_.

His thighs are spread and a hard thrust inside him _deep_ makes him almost _scream_. But then it all _stops_. Pauses.

“No, no, no, no,” he moans out, trying to move, trying to wiggle, trying to do _anything_ to get that friction back.  But the pressure against his mouth, an invisible kiss, a tongue sliding in to tangle with his, a kiss right before he gets what he needs.

It’s so _Kon_ that he should be extremely _pissed off_.  Which he is. Yet, there would be plenty of time for revenge after he gets to _come_. He has dishes, so many dirty dishes and a cute apron just for the occasion. So Tim closes his eyes, panting, mouth open to accept the slide against his mouth, the rubbing against his tongue, the odd feeling of kissing, well, nothing. (And he knows Kon is only doing it because it’s his kink, seriously)

“I…I love you too,” he murmurs while squirming slightly, full and still _wanting._

With that, the admission that always makes Kon go _insane_ , the slow draw out of his body makes him gasp, and the coinciding thrust back in is hard, fast, and _exactly_ what he _needs._ His hips are lifted just slightly off the bed, hovering to get the right angle before the pistoning thrusts start picking up speed and ferocity, his spot taking enough abuse to make his cock throb and strain.

“Oh, oh God, oh God, oh _GOD_ ,” is screamed out while he takes the brutal pounding. He so far gone into the rhythm, into his body climbing higher and higher, that he completely missed Kon biting down on his lower lip, and his hips working against the sheets because _Tim is so fucking beautiful when he’s out-of-control like this._

“I’m…I’m close! Wake-up, Kon. Please wake-up,” Tim moans, head falling back.

And the clone is absolutely _torn_. Tim calling for him, screaming for him, wanting him to bring Tim to the brink and over. He has to clench his fists tight, rut into the sheets to keep himself from ‘waking up’ to do just that.

Instead, the pressure inside Tim’s body swells slightly, larger, touching more spots inside him, filling him even _fuller_. The speed increases just enough that his spot is getting abused on every pass, and he can barely get a _breath_. But the pressure, the wet warmth returns to engulf his aching cock, and there’s no more thought needed.

His body jerks and he comes hard on the next slide inside.

Arching his back, painting his chest and abdomen, Tim cries out his lover’s name, eyes wet with the pleasure taking over his nerve-endings, golden and almost overwhelming. His muscles trembling minutely, blinking quickly to try and clear out his eyes while Tim pants out a few moans that echo in the room. The slow slide out of him leaves him empty where he was full to aching. He can hear Kon shifting beside him, not subtle at all. A different ache taking him because he wants to touch his boyfriend, his best friend too.

“O-Okay,” he manages, wrung-out, “you can ‘wake-up’ now–”

But he chokes when the soft touch slides back inside him, making his thighs twitch when the sensation turns inside him and–The invisible touch is _right on his spot_ , making soothing circles over it to literally try driving him _insane_.

“N-no, no, Kon. Kon, I can’t again. _Kon, wake-up you asshole_ , I can’t!” But the touch is unyielding, doesn’t stop, and his hypersensitive body makes the waves of pleasure sharp and biting, making his try to squirm away.

But he _can’t_.

The hold on his arms and legs tightens when he tries to kick, tries to turn, tries to fight the rising tide in his body starting to crest again. His hands clench making grooves, trying to find something, _anything_ to hold on to while his body heats up with the motion inside him.

“Oh no, _no_ , please, please, I can’t. Kon, Kon, you’re going to–you’re going to _kill me_.” He’s hoarse, voice breaking, eyes wet again, and tears prickling his eyes when his spot is stimulated deliberately, the circles rubbing faster.

Watching from under his lids, face hot with how Tim is trying his hardest to thrash, Kon pushes the pressure to be just a little firmer, just a little faster, knows his boyfriend is so, _so_ close to beating their record. Tim can do it, can look _beautiful_ for him _one more time_.

Tim’s eyes roll in the back of his head as the pressure in his belly winds up again, and it should be impossible, utterly fucking _impossible_ for Kon to do this to him.

The _coup de gras_ , when Tim is ready to scream until someone from _outside_ his bedroom hears him, the only thing to _shut him up_ – is touch inside him stops being circular, and instead _vibrates_ at an insane pulse. His mouth falls slack, numb and now he _is_ crying and screaming, tears keeping face wet while he wails, his body contorts and writhes while he _loses his mind_.

Kon grips the sheets, panting through his mouth, at Tim unconstrained, and almost, _almost_ –

“ _Fuck!”_

With one last jerk of his hips, the final orgasm hits him like a train, slamming into his spine and taking over all his neural processes. He comes completely _dry_ , the power of the orgasm making him black out for a few terribly long minutes.

When he comes back, the fuzziness slowly fading from his vision, he blurrily looks over when something touches his face. A real touch. A warm palm with rough calluses gliding over his jaw to cup the side of his head.

“That was incredible, babe.” Kisses pepper his cheeks and eyelids and Tim mewls softly.

The restraints gone, but his arms shake as they wrap around the super’s neck. He scratches lightly at the base of that hair and Kon purrs giving Tim a reward by covering his body more. He’s completely bare and his weight grounds Tim, makes him feel safe enough to get his brain online…for just a flicker.

 _“Y-You are such an ass.”_ He declares curling into Kon. Docilely allowing his lover to lift his legs so he can squeeze between them. He can guess what’s happening next, greatest detective here thanks. His knees flutter and twitch as they rest on each side of Kon’s waist. A hand skims down his chest, collecting the liquid there to smear and prepare his cock. Tim notices Kon avoids his. Good. Just the mild slide of Kon’s stomach brushing against the tip is maddening. It’s beyond oversensitive and if Kon touched it directly, Tim would rip out his throat with his teeth. Once he found the strength for it, that is.

“I know, I couldn’t help it,” is Kon’s easy explanation, leaning down to suck in Tim’s bottom lip. Tim’s mouth goes slack as he lets the super in, lets him explore every inch of it as if he hasn’t memorized it with how much they kiss. Kon loves all kisses, soft ones, pecks to say hello or goodbye, bruising ones, desperate tastings of tongue and teeth…he’s taught Tim to love kisses too. This one is gentle but thorough, Kon taking his time to adore and worship his perfect boyfriend.  “You were so beautiful, Tim. I came so hard from listening to you.”

“Still an ass.” He bares his neck, giving Kon permission to suck another mark, adding to the red and purple collection from a much earlier session.

“Do you think this is enough?” The super murmurs, eyeing the opening he’s lightly fingering with _Tim’s own release._ Which must be the one of the grossest and sexiest things they’ve ever done.  His fingers squelch obscenely in and out and Tim shudders. “Or should I get the lube?”

“It’s fine.” He can feel how hard Kon is, brushing against his own cock and jolts, twitches hard and turns his head to the side. “J-just do it.”

 _“God I love you so much.”_ Kon smiles and he thrusts himself into Tim’s sensitive hole with one perfect slide.

“Wh-Kon…” and he moans because it’s easy and slow, Kon’s thickness moving back inside to fill him up, hard and throbbing. Then he tilts Tim’s body up, angling him as his hips move and Tim’s eyes snap open. Wait, this is just supposed to finish Kon up. Not for him. _Not there._ “No…can’t. I can’t!”

Kon licks at the hollow between his collarbones, watches Tim tiredly try to arch away from him, from the head of the cock pressing his prostrate and bites down on the sweat-ridden skin. One hand still braces his Red’s face while the other cradles a hipbone to keep Tim exactly where he wants him. “Yes, Babe. Look at you. Squeezing me so tight, taking me in so nice and easy. You’re the ultimate wet dream. It wouldn’t be _fair_ if I didn’t make you feel just as good too.”

 _“Fuck fair,”_ Tim attempts to growl, but it comes out as a husky cry instead, “I’m, _please Kon,_ I-I’m done.”  

“Shhhhhh.” Kon sucks at Tim’s jugular. The super wonders if he start worrying about how babe loses his voice when Kon slowly edges him to this orgasm. But even the rasping gasps and broken whimpers keep Kon’s blood running hot. “Just relax babe. I promise I’ll go slow.”

And he does. Tim weakly paws at his shoulders as Kon moves like a fucking glacier. It’s steady, lazy draws in and out as Tim’s muscles get heavier and heavier. His limbs melting into the bedding as Kon fucks his body like he’s worshipping it. His cock fills in vain and it’s an agonizing buildup to his crest.

“Almost there, Babe.” Kon whispers, sucking right over Red’s heart. He’s been about to burst forever, (heh bust a nut) but he’s greedy, wants the moment to last. Tim is just so pliant, his arms falling back to the sheets while his eyes go clouded from pleasure. He’s too fucking pretty when he’s fucked out. Kon pushes in all the way and just grinds right into Tim’s spot over and over again.

Tim chokes on soft inhales and the praise falling from Kon’s mouth. His little sentiments of, _“Perfect–the best for me Red–everything I’ve ever wanted Babe,”_ while his thumb rubs in the dark blush on Tim’s cheeks. Kon doesn’t rush and waits until Tim’s heartbeat picks up again, until Tim hips minutely twist with his since he can only beg with his body at this point, his voice is useless. Only then does he put a little more into his thrusts to chase their ends.

Tim comes with a breathless scream, it’s dry and he can’t even flail anymore. Just quiver as his eyesight goes spotty. His insides soaked when Kon groans low and deep emptying himself, filling Tim up and making their orgasms last and last.  Tim’s vision goes dark and last thing he hears is:

“Told you, you could come more than twice.” Well love and being sated to his bones will not stop him from killing Kon in the morning, Tim slumps and is out cold.

Kon drops to his side and cradles the unconscious bird in his arms. Moving to a drier spot on the bed though it’s useless. He’ll clean them up in a second but for now he pets that long back and too-long hair, making an account of his winnings.

1) Tim is the best boyfriend ever. But he already knew that. 2) _Yes_ he can get off just by listening to Tim wail and scream, as shown by the wet, sloppy boxers pooled by the bed. 3) He can make his pretty bird come about four times before he passes out. Plus he discovered how gorgeous Red is shaking while he comes dry. Kon licks his lips, staring down at his pretty, pretty sleeping Red, leans over to tongue Tim’s chapped lips too. Could he make it five times if he rimmed him? After all Tim’s gonna be out for hours, finally paying back the sleep debt thanks to each orgasm Kon wrings from Tim. Doesn’t he deserves a medal for that?

He’s sure he can find a way to get his reward.

All he has to do is wait…until Tim wakes up again.

 


End file.
